


What You Said to Me

by bitterglitter



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, M/M, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-07-19 06:02:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 14,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7348027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitterglitter/pseuds/bitterglitter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of small prompt fics sent to me on tumblr</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wish - Tsukkiyama

**Author's Note:**

> “I wish I could hate you.”

Best friends are kind of fucking terrible. 

It isn’t a new fact, only a new discovery. One that’s been lurking in the back of Yamaguchi’s mind for however long, one he’s only recently stumbled upon. Hidden away, only brought to center by hours of thinking and staring at his best friend.

Staring at his lips.

But that’s a recent thing. Almost as recent as the fact that the concept of best friends never should have been invented. Not something that had been gradually building up since junior high. Not something he can trace back almost to the first bloom of affection he’d felt in his chest when Tsukishima saved him from those bullies. Recent.

A terrible concept, Yamaguchi thinks, huddled under a mass of blankets that should honestly be more suffocating. Instead it’s comforting. The press of layers and layers on him helps him think, thoughts illuminated by the cell phone in his grip that he can’t bring himself to turn off.

Another message pops up. Another one from Hinata, decidedly less cheerful than the last and a lot more worried. Yamaguchi is going to have to reply soon if he doesn’t want his inbox filled with all sorts of messages from the team.

Friends.

But not best friends.

This isn’t something that can be discussed with the rest of the team. The fight that had broken out earlier; smack in the middle of rolling volleyballs, cheerful laughs, and warm sun that filled the gym, was a more private matter. One that could only be entrusted to Tsukishima.  

If only the fight hadn’t been between them. If only the fight hadn’t been built off the falling tower of the friendship, too many problems crumbling the bottom to keep the good parts of their relationship standing high.

Yamaguchi can still see the sneer etched onto Tsukishima’s face, the way his too-pretty lips curled around the word _“pathetic”_. He can still see those eyes so brown they should be painted gold widen at Yamaguchi’s retort.  _“Sometimes I really hate you, Kei.”_

He wishes he meant it. He wishes that they could talk and not shove everything away under individual insecurities. Because he knows they can be good for each other, there’s a reason they’re best friends and have been through all these years. Good reasons, reasons that have lead this best friendship into a one sided love that may or may not contribute to the fall of themselves. But they can also be bad for each other.

Maybe it would be easier to hate each other. 

“I wish I could hate you,” Yamaguchi mutters, clicking out of Hinata’s chat and into Tsukishima’s. His words get trapped under the blankets along with him.


	2. Kiss - Kagehina

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Kiss me, quick!”

It’s almost like a game at this point. Hinata shouts, Kageyama does, and Hinata runs off to do whatever he had planned to do in the first place. The first few times it happened it had gone by slowly, with Kageyama staring as if Hinata had lost his mind and Hinata bouncing in anticipation. Now they’re used to it. 

A part of him wonders when he had gotten so compliant with Hinata’s requests. When this had become normal. When Hinata had stopped being so scared of Kageyama and his grumpy moods. 

At the beginning of all this Kageyama told himself that no matter how cute Hinata may be – those goddamn puppy eyes wouldn’t get him – he wouldn’t give into him too much. He’d set boundaries, draw lines in the ground for himself and Hinata. 

Of course that all went out the window when only a few hours later Hinata had asked Kageyama to buy him an extra popsicle and honestly _how the hell_ was Kageyama supposed to say no to that pout?

Tsukishima calls him whipped. Kageyama tells him to look in a damn mirror. 

So, now when Hinata jumps in front of him, all bright eyes and wide smiles and practically shouts  _“kiss me, quick!”,_ Kageyama almost automatically ducks down to press a quick kiss to his lips. He doesn’t think about how they’re in the middle of the hallway and people can see or that Hinata’s just running down the hall to deliver a paper to his teacher and will only be gone for less than a minute.

Hinata’s blinding smile when Kageyama pulls back makes him feel like he’s winning this particular game. 


	3. Marriage - Tsukkiyama

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I love you. I’m completely and utterly in love with you. Please don’t get married.”

Each word is broken apart with a kiss to Yamaguchi’s face. They’re whispered out, Tsukishima’s breath warm on freckled skin, voice open and vulnerable. His eyes are closed, as if unable to see the expression Yamaguchi wears in response. 

He pushes himself forward into Yamaguchi’s space, their bodies almost molded together and it feels so right. Warmth mingling into a comforting sensation that covers Tsukishima better than any blanket could. 

“Please don’t get married,” he repeats his last sentence, voice wobbling slightly.

Next to him he can feel Yamaguchi tremble, but he doesn’t open his eyes just yet. Instead he lets his slightly chapped lips – hating himself for forgetting his chapstick at home – against Yamaguchi’s face. His forehead, his jaw, his cheeks. Everywhere he can possibly reach. It isn’t close enough.

“T-Tsukki,” Yamaguchi mumbles the pet name, voice shaking as hard as his body. 

He takes a deep breath, trying to settle his chest. “You- You big _dork_!” He heightens the insult with a snort, letting go of the remote controller to push Tsukishima away by his chest. He’s been laughing the whole time, giggles stealing the air from his lungs and causing his whole frame to shake. “It’s a video game! Calm down.” 

Tsukishima pulls back, a serious look on his face as he finally opens his eyes. Yamaguchi’s face is bright pink and his grin stretches across his face. He holds back a similar grin. “Then don’t get married.” 

“It’s a video game character!” 

“A hot one! I can’t believe you’d do this to me.” 

Yamaguchi starts giggling again. “I’m not doing anything-” 

“Five months of dating and he leaves me for a video game character.” 

“Tsukki, _I swear to god_ -”

“What will I tell my mother? My brother? That my boyfriend got eloped with a much hotter video game character? That he chose a bunch of pixels over me?”

“It’s for a political alliance! To advance the plot!” 

Tsukishima turns away, it being almost impossible to hide a smile now. “I’ll never love again. Heart broken-”

He’s cut off by Yamaguchi reaching over to tug Tsukishima closer once more. He presses a kiss to the corner of Tsukishima’s mouth, seemingly trying to shut him up. Tsukishima hums in response and tries to move forward, for an actual kiss.

Their lips are almost pressed against each others, breath mingling, skin tingling when, “you’re right, Tsukki. He is pretty hot, even if he is in a video game.” 

Yamaguchi squeals as Tsukishima tackles him to the bed.  


	4. Found - Kagehina

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I almost lost you.”

Hinata is short. 

He does not like admitting this fact. He will kick you in the shins if you make fun of him for this fact (he’s looking at you, Tsukishima). He pulls himself up to his full height in an effort to combat this fact. It does not work. 

Especially in situations like this. 

Everyone and their mom seemed to decide that _this_ weekend was the one to visit college students. It couldn’t have been the one before or even the next. No, somehow everyone mentally decided that this was the right weekend through some metal voodoo.

Hinata had not been involved in such voodoo, his decision instead came from the schedule of tests and projects his teachers had stuck him with.  

But, he thinks, trying to be hopeful, the .5 seconds he’d seen Kageyama had been nice. Being held in his arms after weeks of nothing but Skype and phone calls had been so nice. 

And then Hinata had gotten sucked in the crowd and couldn’t see a damn thing. Honestly, he feels a bit like a kid who lost their mom in the shopping mall. Ow. Now he’s frustrated and nursing his damaged ego. 

“Oi!” A familiar voice shouts. Hinata’s head whips around, looking for a source. He can’t see anything past people who are too damn tall (stop drinking so much fucking milk, he thinks bitterly) and travel bags. No familiar raven hair or blue eyes. Hinata’s about to yell in frustration because this is ridiculous. 

Something grabs the back of his jacket. He’s about to spin around and yell if this person is looking for a fight, hoping Kageyama finds him soon so he’ll have someone to hide behind. Just in case. But the hand lets go and an arm wraps around him, a chest presses against his back.

The words come out before Hinata can start to panic. “Thought I almost lost you.” Kageyama’s rough voice is slightly softer – with relief maybe? Hinata grins at the thought. “Didn’t think you were stupid enough to get lost here.” 

“Shut up.” There’s no force behind his words. It’s too much of a relief to be this close to Kageyama again. “I, for one, did know you were stupid enough to lose me here. So.” He shrugs. 

“Idiot.” Kageyama says fondly, as if it’s a pet name. 

“Jerk. Show me your dorm?” 


	5. Necessities - Kuroken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Have you lost your damn mind!?”

The words are forceful, but not harsh. Just loud enough to make it past cotton stuffed ears and a layer of a fuzzy blanket. Kenma doesn’t even blink. Instead his thumbs continue to move as if undisturbed. 

Kuroo blinks. He knows Kenma can hear him, it’s not like he has his headphones in, so he pushes on. “Have you lost your damn _mind_!?” 

This time he does get a response. A slow blink, eyes still down on his controller, and then, “no.” Kenma continues with his game, watching the character run across the screen. It’s much more comforting than the glare he can feel piercing his carefully constructed blanket cocoon. If he looks up he knows he’ll be met with a glare that would rival his own parents’. 

“No? I beg to differ.” Kuroo crosses his arms, raising an eyebrow. Kenma doesn’t have to look up to see it. They’ve done this enough he knows exactly how it’ll play out. 

“I don’t see the problem.” Kenma shrugs, speaking honestly. 

“Um, food? Eating? Paying for necessities?” Kenma does spare a glance up to see Kuroo listing out needs on his hands. His mouth quirks up for a half a second before he glances back down. 

“This is a necessity.” Again, Kenma is completely honest. His neutral tone only adds to that. 

Kuroo snorts, Kenma can feel his eye roll. He’s placed his hands on his hips, giving off even more of a disappointed parent vibe. “A new controller is not more important eating.”

“I dropped my other one and it cracked. Plus, I have you to get food.” 

Kuroo barks out a laugh even though they both know it’s true. “Not forever.” 

“Says you.”

“You know your parents only give you a bit of money every month. You can’t keep using it like this.” 

“Maybe that’s why I go on so many dates with you.” Kenma teases, tone lightning slightly. “So I get something to eat.” 

“Wouldn’t be surprised,” Kuroo grumbles in response. He flops down on the couch next to Kenma’s blankets, bringing his knees to his chest so he can shove his toes under the blankets. “So, what game is that?” 


	6. Off - Tsukihina

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Come over here and make me.”

“Take them off.” 

“No.”

“Do you want to die?” 

“At least I’ll die looking cute.” Hinata grins from his spot on Tsukishima’s bed. He’s gathered all the pillows he could find in the room and is now stacking them in the best way to lay on. “Which is more than I can say about you.” 

“It’ll be wasted. I can’t see you, so it won’t matter.” Tsukishima reaches out a foot to press against Hinata’s side. He’s unwilling to move from his desk chair, but also doesn’t like the way the world’s edges have gotten slightly blurry for him. “Just give me back my glasses.” 

Hinata shakes his head so hard that Tsukishima worries for a second that they’ll fly off his head and somehow get crushed. “Nope. They’re mine now.” 

“You’re going to get a headache.” 

“That’s why pain pills were created.” 

“So you can wear my glasses like an idiot?” 

“Don’t be mean!” 

“You’ve stolen my only means of sight. I get to be mean. Give them back.”

“Come over here and make me.”

Tsukishima huffs, pushing himself out of the chair. A shame. He was pretty comfortable and actually getting homework done, an accomplishment with Hinata around. He walks to the edge of the bed, glaring down at the ginger boy. He doesn’t need to see to know Hinata is flashing him an innocent smile. He puts a hand out, waiting for his glasses. 

“I said make me,” Hinata repeats the words, mischief in his voice. 

Tsukishima gives a dramatic sigh, whole body slumping with it. “Fine.” Before Hinata can even think he should be trying to get away, Tsukishima is kneeling on the bed and reaching out to dig his hands into Hinata’s side. Howling laughter follows as Hinata tries to squirm away. 

It doesn’t work out well, though, as instead of getting away he just backs himself against the wall. This only gives Tsukishima more of an advantage, now able to tickle his sides and stomach without Hinata having an escape route. 

Hinata throws his head back, narrowly avoiding hitting it on the wall. Even without his glasses he can see Hinata’s face becoming flush, tears gathering in his eyes. One of Hinata’s biggest flaws was how sensitive to tickling he was, so how couldn’t Tsukishima exploit it?

In the end Tsukishima’s tickles calm as does Hinata’s laughter. His glasses end up at the foot of the bed as the two boys wrap themselves up in each other. 


	7. Nostalgia - Daisuga

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I can’t believe you talked me into this.”

“This is such a bad idea. I can’t believe you talked me into this. We’re going to be exhausted by the end of it and then what’ll we do tomorrow at practice? You couldn’t wait a few more hours?” Suga’s looking up at Daichi with raised eyebrows, a smirk playing on his lips. 

“Don’t give me that look. _You’re_ the one who got all excited when you found out this was a thing. Didn’t have to do much talking you into it.” Daichi shoots back, the smug grin that had been plastered to his face only widening. 

“It’s almost eleven. This isn’t exactly the best time to be watching a movie,” Suga reminds him, voice soft against the warm summer air around them. 

Daichi scoffs. “It’s the _perfect_ time to watch a movie. Plus there won’t be any loud kids around, only us teenagers and young adults.” 

“There are more people than I expected…” Suga mumbles, glancing around at the people entering the movie theater. He reaches out to press his hand against the glass door, letting the two of them in past a gush of refreshingly cool air. 

“Nostalgia is a powerful thing. And you were the one who called me at five am when you found out.” 

“Shut up, stop making good points. It’s too late for me to argue like this.” 

Even with a small crowd, it’s nothing like it would’ve been if they had come in the middle of the day. It’s thankfully easy to get two tickets, snacks, and relatively good seats. 

Suga’s still side eyeing the couple that practically barreled past them to get good middle seats. They’re too busy whispering to each other and staring into each others eyes. Suga glares harder. Daichi fights back a laugh. It doesn’t work. 

“Ignore them.” Daichi whispers, wrapping an arm around Suga’s shoulders and pulling him close. “Focus on watching animated fish swim around.” 

Suga glances at the arm around him and looks back up at Daichi, eyes sparkling with amusement. “I knew you had alternative motives here. How dare you use _Finding Dory_ to try to make a move on me. Using children's’ movies to flirt. Unbelievable.” 

Daichi lets out a loud laugh this time, just as the theater is darkening. He ignores the several people that turn towards them, ready to shush them if needed. “A guy’s gotta try.” 


	8. Captain - Ennotana

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I wish you could see yourself the way I see you.”

The words almost float by unnoticed. Soft and sweet and just about lost to deaf ears. They don’t, though. Somehow they make it. In the silence of the space around them maybe. In the rare tranquility. 

“Hm?” Ennoshita replies, glancing up from his clipboard. He raises an eyebrow in question towards Tanaka, having heard the question without hearing the words.

Tanaka is looking at him with that look again. The one he’d first given Ennoshita when Daichi announced Ennoshita would be the new captain in his place. It’s a look that Ennoshita can’t name, emotions somehow both hidden and written right on his face. At least Ennoshita is able to name the emotion this look give him; confusion, worry. The unnerve that comes with not knowing what it means. 

“I said- Um… never mind.” It stared out strong, but now his voice flatters, as if Tanaka is losing his nerve. 

“No, no.” Ennoshita turns fully towards him, giving him his undivided attention now. If Tanaka of all people was openly expression nerves then it had to be serious. “What’d you say?” 

Tanaka clenches his fists at his sides, looking off to the side, as if unable to meet Ennoshita’s eyes. “I- Ah. You shouldn’t stress so much. I know it hasn’t even been a month of you being captain and I can already see you comparing yourself to Daichi.” His expression, for once, is almost deadly serious. As if this is the most important thing he’s said in a long time. 

“So, I said that I… wish you could see yourself the way I see you. Cause you are a good captain. You handle the first years well. Hell, you handle everyone well. And somehow you put up with me and Noya while leading the team, and doing a damn good job of it.” 

Ennoshita’s eyes widen. _That_ hadn’t been what he was expected to hear from his vice captain. At least, not so early in the year.  

He forces a smile, hoping it looks reassuring (for a moment he thinks of Suga’s, trying to mirror it). He struggles for the words to follow that. “I- I…appreciate that, Tanaka. Thank you. But you shouldn’t worry either, I’m fin-”

“If you say ‘fine’ I’m gonna hit you,” Tanaka’s says with a slight grin. He’s obviously trying to lighten the mood, but Ennoshita can’t help but feel the serious undertone. His smile fades once more and he looks at Ennoshita’s face again. “You look exhausted and we’ve been friends since first year; I can tell when you’re stressed. Plus,” he adds almost as an afterthought, “crying in the bathroom after practice doesn’t seem that fine.” 

Ennoshita just stops a curse from falling off his lips. He knew he hadn’t been alone yesterday, he fucking knew it! He’d tried to clean himself up quickly so no one saw, but it wasn’t the easiest thing to get red eyes to turn white again. 

So, his forced smile falls. Now it’s his turn to look away and his gripping the clipboard so tight he wonders if it could break. “Tanaka…” His voice sounds so heavy, so _tired_. Reflecting the hours and weeks he’d spent worrying that he wouldn’t be good enough. He isn’t. 

It takes two steps for Tanaka to be in front of him, to be too close. If Ennoshita leaned forward they’d be pressed against each other. He almost takes a step back. 

“Just. Just try to take some weight off your shoulders, alright? I dunno, come talk to me or something. A captain and vice captain should probably talk about these things.” Tanaka offers, his regular grin back in place. Relief washes over Ennoshita. 

It shows. His shoulders drop slightly and his grip on his clipboard relaxes. He looks up at Tanaka, getting lost in his gaze because while the tone has lightened the look in his eyes has intensified. 

This time it’s a real, small smile Ennoshita shows. “Alright. Thanks, Ryuu.” 


	9. Stars - Daisuga

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Our first date is a picnic on a beach under the stars? Have you swallowed a romance novel? Do I need to call a doctor?”

Suga stretches his legs out across the blanket, enjoying how he now has more than enough space to do so. “I’m honestly concerned,” Suga continues as he watches Daichi set up next to him. “I mean, I did find it strange that it took so long to drive to a date. But this? Our first date is a picnic on a beach under the stars?” He leans over the basket, peering up at Daichi with a smirk. “Have you swallowed a romance novel? Do I need to call a doctor?” 

“I think it’s a bit late to call your doctor with concerns that your boyfriend is too romantic,” Daichi teases back. He raises an eyebrow, trying to look annoyed with Suga making fun of him, but it only comes off as fond. “Don’t be mean, I worked hard to plan this.” 

“Are you sure you’re Sawamura Daichi? Cause I know Sawamura Daichi and I didn’t think he was _this_ much of a sap. Oh no, did I get in the wrong car?” Suga feigns concern that only breaks with a snort as Daichi rolls his eyes and pushes his shoulder. 

“Shut up and enjoy this. You know you love it and how romantic it is.” 

“Sure, sure.” Suga scoots closer to Daichi on the blanket until they’re pressed up against each other. Daichi’s leg is warm next to his and Suga tilts his head so it rests on his shoulder. Silence overtakes them, the sounds of gentle waves crashing on the sand just a few feet away replace their words. Swiftly cooling air caresses them, causing them to lean into each other. 

Suga’s gaze tilts up so he’s looking at the stars. How they shine in the darkness and stand out against the backdrop of the ocean. He has to admit, it is romantic. And while he might not be a fan of giant romantic gestures or have expected something like this from Daichi, he could see himself getting used to this. 

“This is nice.” Suga whispers, as if speaking any louder would break the peaceful spell of the night. He glances over, still able to see Daichi’s smile in the low light. It glows almost as bright as the stars. “… You’re still sap, though.” 

“Suga!” Daichi’s smile slips into a pout. “Don’t ruin the moment!” 

In response, Suga snickers before leaning over to press a gentle, quick kiss to Daichi’s lips. “There. Is the moment fixed?” 

“I don’t know. I think you’ll have to kiss me again to make sure.” 

“Sap,” Suga teases before leaning in again. 


	10. Dying - Kagehina

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm dying."

The words come out in short, broken gasps. A beat of silence follows them before they’re repeated, falling from chapped lips. “I’m dying.” 

“No you aren’t.” Shouyou’s voice is flat in a way that surprises Tobio for a brief second. His expression is equally so, clashing with the bright gleam in his wide eyes, and his lips are pressed thin. If not for the twitch at the corner of his lips, he’d look unbelievably frustrated. 

Tobio glances up at Shouyou, glaring at him. Two years ago this look would have Shouyou cowering behind the nearest person. Now it just has him rolling his eyes. “Yes. I am.” 

“Get up, Tobio. If we lose her it’s your fault. And I’ll have to call my mom and then she’ll call the police and it’ll be _all_ your fault, Tobio.” Hinata gives an overdramatic sigh. 

Tobio pulls himself off from his position of face down in the grass so he’s up on his knees. His breathing is still slightly off and his face just a little bit flushed. “I can literally see Natsu right over there. She’s fine, worry more about your dying boyfriend.” 

“You’ve been playing volleyball for years and my little sister manages to wear you out in an hour and a half? You’re losing your edge, Tobio.” 

“I didn’t know kids had this much energy.” Tobio admits. With Shouyou’s help he pulls himself to his feet. “Doesn’t she ever get tired?” He looks over to see Natsu over at the park’s playground, swinging wildly from monkey bar to monkey bar. Her wild orange hair glows in the sun, only one of many similarities between her and her brother. “Is endless energy like a family trait or something?”

“Probably,” Shouyou admits with a laugh. “My mom and dad had to keep up with us somehow. That doesn’t change anything though!” He thrusts his index finger out, just a hair away from it pushing into Tobio’s nose. “An athlete like you shouldn’t tire out so easily!” 

“Says you. I seem to remember you coming over to my house more than once, complaining on how Natsu exhausted you.” Tobio challenges, raising an eyebrow. 

Shouyou presses his finger forward into Tobio’s nose, causing him to flinch back. “That’s different. I have to deal with her for longer periods of time. It hasn’t even been two hours.” 

It really hasn’t. The sun is still high in the air and the sky just as blue as when they got here. Sure, the park is a bit more empty as the afternoon creeps on, but it hasn’t been too long and they both know it. There are still plenty of families with small kids, couples on dates, and people walking dogs around them. The only physical sign of the time that’s passed are the numbers on Tobio’s phone. 

“Well I’m not the one who signed up to be a big brother.”

“That’s not how big brothers work, idiot. Plus, you’re the one who signed up to date a big brother.” 

“And babysitting comes with that?” Tobio asks flatly. “I want a refund.” 

“Too bad!” Shouyou narrows his eyes. The effect is ruined by him sticking his tongue out. “I threw out the receipt. You’re stuck with me!” 

“Shouyou! Shouyou!” Natsu’s yelling interrupts whatever retort Tobio was preparing to give. They both look over to see the young girl now perched on top of the monkey bars, hands on her hips. Her knees are bent slightly, and she’s leaning down like she’s preparing to- “Look at how far I can jump!” 

“Natsu, _**no**_ -!” They both shout. 

Their date at the park with Natsu ends with them at the hospital with Mama Hinata yelling at all three of them over the phone. 


	11. Hoodie - Kuroken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You heard me. Take. It. Off."

“Sorry, what?” Kuroo pulls out a earphone, harder than needed to judging by the slight sting it leaves behind. Music still blares in his other ear, but he makes no move to turn it down, instead staring up at Kenma from his position stretched out on the couch.

Kenma, who is currently refusing to look directly at Kuroo. Instead his gaze is focused on Kuroo’s laptop, currently resting on his lap, as if the his chemistry essay is in anywhere interesting. 

“You heard me.” Kenma says, voice almost a whisper. Years of practice allow Kuroo to actually hear the words. “Take. It. Off.” Each word is punctuated by a second of silence, as if saying it physically hurts. 

“Um.” Kuroo’s mouth quirks up in a smirk. He raises an eyebrow as Kenma finally glances at his face, taking the opportunity to hold his earphone up. “No, I actually didn’t hear you.” 

Kenma’s face colors a bright shade of red. He shrinks in on himself, as if he could bury his face in his thin t-shirt. “Oh.” His voice gets softer, if possible. Knowing Kenma, it is. “Take your… take your hoodie off. I need it.” 

Kuroo’s eyes widen. Finally he notices Kenma, really notices him instead of half paying attention like he had. The tremor in his hands, the strained press of his lips, the way his shoulders are curling in towards his chest. Without hesitation, he pushes his laptop from his lap down his legs so it doesn’t get in the way. He wiggles of of his hoodie, the slight chill of the room not bothering him, and holds it up towards Kenma. 

Brown eyes soften with relief and trembling hands snatch the hoodie away. As Kenma pulls it over his head Kuroo situates himself. Instead of stretched out the length of the couch, he’s curled up in the corner of the arm of the couch, giving enough space for Kenma to curl up on the other side. Kuroo pulls his laptop to his lap again and Kenma settles on the couch. 

The sweatshirt is practically drowning Kenma in it, but that’s just what he wants. He brings his knees to his chest and pulls the hoodie over his legs. The sounds of whatever game Kenma has decided to play and the tapping of keys fill the room. 

Kuroo leaves an earphone out, just in case, and Kenma wiggles his toes against Kuroo’s feet. A feeling of calm washes over the both of them. 


	12. Laugh - Kagehina

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I can’t watch you with someone else. It’s tearing me apart.”

Hinata is beautiful when he laughs. Not that Kageyama would ever admit that out loud, instead he keeps that thought safely locked away for just himself. He’s sure other people know it, would agree,but they can’t know that _he_ knows it. No one can ever know. Not his teammates. Not his family. Not even the boy who’s currently making Hinata laugh like that. 

If that boy knew than he’d agree. He’d agree in a friendly way and then Kageyama would see the way his eyes shine with admiration and another emotion that Kageyama refuses to define. Refuses to define it in the brown eyes of his new teammate or in the blue eyes of himself. 

Maybe if Kageyama was able to admit it this wouldn’t have happened. Maybe if he was able to walk up to Hinata and tell him just what he felt. That his feelings went beyond those of a teammate. That his heart jumped whenever Hinata smiled at him and how Kageyama thought everything about him was beautiful. The way he laughed, the way he soared through the air during a match, the way he wore his feelings on his sleeve. 

But he didn’t tell him. 

Instead, this guy had. A new teammate. A transfer of the same year who wasn’t even a starting player. He was able to say it. 

Hinata clutches his stomach, eyes bright and voice loud as he laughs. Kageyama’s mouth stings with bitterness. 

What would he say now? He couldn’t say what he should have before. It would have to be different and Kageyama has no idea. 

_“I’m bitter that I can’t express myself in the way you want.”_

_“Hey, you know that cute new guy? The one you’re dating? Could you break up for him? For me?”_

_“I can’t watch you with someone else. It’s tearing me apart.”_

_“I wish you felt the same way. Could you try?”_  

None of it was right. None of it was fair. To either of them. So Kageyama keeps his lips shut tight, locking them and the words he desperately wants to say tight. Instead, he forces himself to settle. Settle with watching Hinata be happy with someone else, just out of reach. 

Settle with listening to Hinata laugh from a distance. 


	13. Bright Pink - Tsukihina

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Kiss me."

Tsukishima wrinkled his nose at the bright pink t-shirt. He held it out at arms length by the tips of his fingers, as if touching the offending fabric burned him. The words were printed in black, cursive script. He wasn’t sure if that made it better or worse. Better than comic sans, he supposed. 

Choked back snickering filled the bedroom. It was obviously trying to be hidden, but finding it impossible to be so with the silence around it.   

“Shut the fuck up.” Tsukishima says easily, quickly, even though Hinata hasn’t even said anything yet. 

In the mirror’s reflection he can see Hinata, stretched out across Tsukishima’s bed. His head is resting on crossed arms near the head of the bed. He opens his mouth, obviously about to point out he hasn’t said anything, but Tsukishima keeps talking. “I will kick you out. If you don’t continue to shut the fuck up.” 

“So mean.” Hinata mumbles, shoving his face into his arms. Now all Tsukishima can see are a mess of red curls and a single brown eye peeking out from said mess. 

“You failed. Already. Get out.” 

“I’ll tell your mom. She’ll make you let me stay.” 

Tsukishima’s already disgusted expression twitched into one of annoyance. It’s true that his mother has always been a big fan of Hinata, almost since they started dating. How dare Hinata use that against him. “Fine. But stay quiet about - _this_.” He waves the shirt around before letting it fall to the floor. “Remind me never to listen to anything Yamaguchi says every again.”

“C’mon, Tsukishima.” Hinata’s voice is slightly muffled, but it’s clear from his pitch he’s still fighting off giggles. “A kissing booth isn’t that bad.”

“Yes it is. I’m going to die.”

“Then why’d you agree?” 

“I thought I was going to manage it or something. Not this.” 

“Oh boo hoo.” Hinata mock whines. “Poor Tsukishima.” 

“Seriously - get out.” 

Hinata does laugh at that before pushing himself up so he’s sitting on his knees, legs pressing into the mattress. His cheek is slightly red and indented from where it rested on his arm, but his grin makes up for it. “You can always drop out.”

“Yamaguchi would never let me hear the end of it.” Tsukishima groans, turning on his heel so he’s properly facing Hinata. He tries not to enjoy the happy look in his eyes. 

“I’m sure he’ll understand. If you do drop out, though, you should keep the shirt. _Kiss me_ ,” Hinata quotes with a grin that’s half teasing, half something else. For exaggeration he waggles his eyebrows. “You could wear it when I come over.” 

“I’m never kissing you ever again, just for that.” Tsukishima sound serious, but his feet carrying him towards the bed betray him. “I am also throwing the shirt away as soon as possible.” 

“Awww, don’t do that!” His bottom lip juts out in a pout. “If you don’t want it at least let me wear it... _I’ll_ wear it when I come over.” 

“Shut up.” Tsukishima rolls his eyes, reaching out to push Hinata over onto the bed. 

Which may have been a bad idea, seeing as now he’s sprawled out on Tsukishima’s bed, grinning up at him. And when he says  _“kiss me”_ there’s no stopping Tsukishima from doing just that. 


	14. Push - Kuroken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I think I'm in love with you and I'm terrified."

Kenma doesn’t push. He’s smarter than that. 

He’s smart enough to see behind layers of false bravado and a face shining with self confidence that pushing would be anything but helpful. Even a nudge cracks and peels back layers. Kenma isn’t sure he can handle that. So he doesn’t push. He’s not sure Kuroo can handle it. 

It’s surprising, to everyone, that Kenma is the first to use the L-word. It’s said in a hushed whisper under three layers of blankets, comforted by a mountain of pillows, in the middle of a chilly autumn night. It isn’t returned. 

It’s surprising to everyone. Except those who matter. 

Those who hear the words. 

Because Kenma sees the way that Kuroo gets choked up. How he almost panicked when Kenma said it. He can see the way Kuroo desperately cling to any attention Kenma gives him, as if he really is an aloof cat like everyone always seems to tease. Wary, slick, hard to hold onto. Maybe he is, in all honesty, but that doesn’t mean Kuroo doesn’t hold on a little too tight. 

Kenma doesn’t ask. He’s not sure if he already knows why or if he doesn’t want to. There’s something behind Kuroo’s desperate need for love an attention, but reluctance to accept and return it. It’s hidden behind a curtain that Kenma isn’t sure he wants to unveil. 

Who knows what sits behind it. 

Does Kuroo?

Still, he doesn’t push. Doesn’t ask. Doesn’t bring it up. Instead he whispers “I love you” as many times as he can, only ever in private, though. He lets hand holding feel romantic instead of desperate and makes clinging seem like cuddling. He doesn’t mind. He knows he can be hard to deal with too, he has his quirks, and if Kuroo can accept his he can do the same in return. Because he really does love him. 

It’s surprising when the words are finally returned. 

It’s surprising on all accounts. That they’re being spoken at all, the context they’re given, the emotion behind them. It almost paralyzes the both of them. 

It’s hot and miserable and they’ve been running for over ten minutes, trying to keep up with a regular volleyball routine during the summer. Thin clouds do nothing to hide intense rays of sunshine or cool the melting pavement beneath them. Kenma is staring down at his phone, hidden away under a nearby tree for some semblance of relief, a popsicle in his free hand. Kuroo treated him to it. Kuroo always does that. 

Kenma almost misses the words. They’re not whispered, but instead spoken at a usual level. They still come out soft, as if being presented on a pillow. “I think I’m in love with you. And I’m terrified.” 

If he were anyone else his head would snap up. He’d be wide eyed, brimming with emotions that decorated his face. He’d shout - something. He’s not sure. 

But he’s Kenma. Instead he takes his time, tilting his head up and then letting his eyes follow. They do widen, but only when they see the raw emotions on Kuroo’s face. He wasn’t lying, he is terrified. His face is quickly loosing color and his chest is rising and falling so fast Kenma can’t keep up. He has his own popsicle, that’s starting to melt and dribble down his fingers, and it’s shaking so hard in his grip it looks like it might fall. And his eyes - Kenma can’t look. They’re wild, raw. Unseen. 

Kenma wants to run. Panic just the same. Hide. 

Instead he slowly nods, chest lightening as the popsicle slowly stops shaking. “I love you too.” 

Kuroo makes a sound like a sob. One of relief. 

The sun continues to beat down and Kenma doesn’t push. 


	15. Me - Ennotana

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Marry me?"

Ennoshita doesn’t mean to flush as bad as he does. He doesn’t mean to stutter out a half formed cocktail of embarrassment, confusion, and sarcasm as an excuse for a response. He definitely doesn’t mean to shove Tanaka away a couple of feet before spinning on his heel and stalking over to the blissfully ignorant first years crowded in the corner of the gym. 

He’s not sure what he  _ does  _ mean to do, but it sure as hell isn’t _ that _ . 

He doesn’t spare a glance back, not sure he’d be able to handle the looks he can feel boring into his back actually meeting his own gaze. Briefly, he wonders what Tanaka’s expression is -- confusion? Most likely. Maybe he’s laughing. Laughing at his own joke. Ennoshita’s foot lands wrong on his next step forward and he almost topples over, just barely catching himself before he could tip, not wanting to know what that kind of fuck up would add to the situation. 

Whatever small amount of luck he’s been left with for the day seems to have been used, the first years hadn’t noticed what happened. Of, if they did, they aren’t letting on about it, instead addressing their captain the same way they always do. Ennoshita hopes both that they can and can’t see how thankful he is in his expression. 

Practice carries on, somehow. His voice booms through the gym, just shy of how Daichi’s used to do so -- but he’s grown used to that, being just shy of Daichi -- and his teammates get in their respective places. 

Kageyama and Hinata standing by the net with their newly acquired fanclub of first years, arguing over who should practice with who and in what order. Tsukishima coaching two new middle blockers, looking as bored as ever, unless you miss the spark in his eyes, hidden away behind gleaming glasses. Ennoshita did miss it the first few weeks, now it’s easily spottable. Yamaguchi and Noya talking to the rest of the first years, a small, scared group not yet accustomed to Karasuno. Yachi eyeing a clipboard -- a list of girls who had asked if Yachi needed any help managing the club, as she had told Ennoshita hours earlier with a desperation that made it clear she wasn’t sure who to accept -- only looking up when someone got too loud. Kinoshita and Natira, in their own little corner, casting not so subtle glances that Ennoshita pointedly ignores, trying to tell them with his own glare to mind their own business. Everyone in their places. 

Except Tanaka. 

Which, is to be expected. What was Ennoshita supposed to think otherwise? That’d he’d come back to Ennoshita’s side, standing by as the bright, overly cheery co-captain everyone looked up too? No. Maybe. He hoped. And he hadn’t. He’d gotten too used to Tanaka standing there, ready with support and wisdom and confidence that Ennoshita carefully watched in an attempt to replicate. Too used to not only have Tanaka’s support as a mental reassurance, but his radiating body heat as they stood so close they could almost touch as a physical one. 

Like that’d happen again right away. Like Ennoshita hadn’t just tried to shove him to the floor and  _ then run away like a fucking idiot.  _

But, Ennoshita has to reassure himself as he watches Hinata clinging to Kageyama’s raised arms, trying to grab back a volleyball, this isn’t wholly his fault. He’s not totally in the wrong. 

Because it was Tanaka who spent a good part of morning practice subtly teasing him. It was Tanaka who’d avoided him at lunch. It was Tanaka who’d bragged to the first year not minutes ago about how great he was with the ladies, and how they could learn something from him and how  _ “I could get anyone to fall for me if I really wanna. Like, anyone. Even -- even Ennoshita. Hey, how ‘bout it? Ennoshita. Marry me?”  _

And all after two days of silence that followed a midnight confession. 

Ennoshita’s mind is racing by now, which isn’t good. He isn’t a good captain when he thinks about other things, when he lets his mind wonder -- which, his brain supplies unhelpfully, is why it’s so good to keep Tanaka around. Keep himself grounded. He needs to clear it, get rid of all these thoughts buzzing around. Needs to go tell Kinoshita and Natira to get off their asses and actually practice instead of stare at him. Needs to go make sure the first years with Noya and Yamaguchi aren’t actually  _ too  _ scared. Needs to make sure Kageyama and Hinata don’t finally kill each other today.

“Enno?” 

Fuck. 

His head takes off like a swarm of bees. He turns around to see Tanaka there, shoulders slightly slumped in, hands shoved in his pants like they were pockets, and chin tucked into his chest. He looks guilty. Like he knows he just knocked down a beehive into Ennoshita’s mind, setting off an angry swarm of bees and the beginning of a killer headache. 

“I, um… I-- ah, I supposed I should. You know. Um. I guess--” He’s never heard Tanaka stumble like this. He’s seen Tanaka get rejected, seen Tanaka embarrassed in front of his mother, but never unable to say something quite like this. 

In quickly flashes everything leading up to this replays in his head like a bad movie. The Friday night conversation. Tanaka bored out of his mind and Ennoshita stuck on his next movie script. Staying up until Friday night turned into Saturday morning and with each droop of his eyes Ennoshita’s mental filter weakened. Sending the confession in a jumble with passive words that somehow got his meaning across. 

Two days of radio silence. 

And then this fucking day. 

“Don’t.” Ennoshita says quickly, cutting of Tanaka because it’s almost been twenty seconds and he still hasn’t gotten a full sentence out. Ennoshita quietly hopes he doesn’t ever. “Just… don’t.” His voice is hard in a way he didn’t imagine it could be, didn’t mean for it to be. For once he doesn’t feel shy of Daichi, he feels like Daichi. Scolding a misbehaving first year for acting out. 

Close enough, honestly. 

“Go -- go check on the first years.” He points a thumb at Yamaguchi and Noya’s group. “Give them a pep talk or something before we start the next game. I don’t want anyone freaking out mid set.” 

Tanaka opens his mouth. And closes it. And opens it again. He looks like a fish. A stunned fish that Ennoshita just reeled in -- shocked it had gotten caught by the hook it had bitten. Fitting. “Oh. Um. Alright.” He slowly nods, pulling his hands out of his shorts, before walking away, keeping a safe distance from Ennoshita. 

He wants to laugh. Cry. Dissolve into hysterics. Because  _ what the fuck was  _ **_that._ **

He doesn’t. He straightens his shoulders. He turns around to face the team. And he gets ready to start the next game. 


	16. Dance - Daisuga

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Wanna dance?"

He really shouldn’t be doing this. It was a bad idea in the first place, but now it’s extra bad and he should just back up and head home. The world spins and that’s how he knows it’s a bad idea, because while he can remember learning as a kid that the world spun through space he knew it was supposed to seem still to him. 

Fuck, why did nobody tell him alcohol gave you the ability to watch the world spin? He’d have started drinking a lot earlier. 

“Hey, are you alright?” The most beautiful fucking voice he’d ever heard in his life asks. Since when could he talk to angels? Oh shit, was this, like, when people said God spoke to them? Maybe God was busy, so he sent a beautiful angel in his place. 

Daichi turns his head. Well, no, he tries to turn his head. But it happens too fast and he’s forced to look down because the world started spinning extra fast.  _ Hope I didn’t speed up the world,  _ Daichi thinks as he closes his eyes. Imagine all the angry scientists at his front door in the morning. 

He turns his head again, slower this time -- the world is back to normal! Science is saved! -- and sees that, no, it wasn’t an angel. Close as he’s ever going to get to seeing one though. Probably. 

Suga looks worried. He also looks like he has a halo of light surrounding him, but that could just be Daichi. Or the alcohol. Both? That doesn’t matter. What does matter is the turn of Suga’s lips, how they’re facing down and his eyebrows scrunch together in the most adorable way, and  _ fuck,  _ how aren’t they kissing yet? Daichi wants to kiss him. A lot. 

“Daichi.” Suga says his name softly. Just loud enough to hear over the music -- oh yeah, there’s music. Daichi had almost forgotten. Suga’s eyes glance down and widen when they see Daichi’s empty cup. “How much have you had to drink?” 

“Enough,” Daichi giggles. He actually  _ giggles _ . Has he ever done that before? 

Apparently not, given by the growing concern on Suga’s face. “Alright.” He drags out the word and it only makes Daichi want to kiss him more. “Can you tell me how much is enough?” 

“Dunno,” Daichi admits and Suga’s frown deepens. Which is why he didn’t want to admit that, he hates seeing Suga frown. His smile is much prettier. But all of Suga is pretty. “Tanaka kept refilling it.” 

“And you kept drinking it?” Suga raises an eyebrow, mouth finally curving up into an amused smile. One he’s only seen directed towards him. 

“Uh-huh. Tastes good.” He holds out the drink to offer some, but then remembers it’s empty. He frowns and sets it on the kitchen counter in front of him. 

Suga mutters something about the second years and how he “knew it was a bad idea to invite them to a post grad party…” before looking up with a  _ smile.  _

There are smiles and then there are Suga’s  _ smiles.  _ Suga’s  _ smiles  _ take up every bit of light around them, every bit of happiness, and points it all at you. It makes every nerve in your body tingle with….niceness. Yeah, that’s the word. Niceness. 

“I want to kiss you,” Daichi blurts out. How could he not? Suga makes it impossible not to blurt stuff like that out when he smiles like that. 

They don’t, unfortunately, start kissing right away like Daichi hoped, but instead Suga laughs. It’s soft and sweet and floats through the air. Almost as good as kissing. “Maybe later. When you’ve… sobered up a bit.” 

Daichi resists the urge to pout, because even though he might be a  _ little  _ drunk, there’s enough of him intact that wants to keep some of his dignity. At least so he won’t regret everything in the morning. “How long will that take?” Daichi asks instead, hoping not very long at all. He wants to start kissing now. 

“Hmm,” Suga hums, “I’m not sure. Guess we’ll have to wait and see.” 

Wait? Daichi doesn’t want to wait. Waiting sounds… terrible. Just terrible. The worst. Awful. The word wait, Daichi decides, is the worst word ever and who even decided that it should be a word? An idiot, that’s who. 

“But,” Suga continues, obviously sensing Daichi’s displeasure, “I have an idea on how to pass the time.” Before Daichi can reply; maybe by asking what the idea is, or maybe if they can kiss again, or why Suga wants to even wait in the first place, Suga takes a hold of his hands and starts pulling him along. 

Out of the kitchen and into the living room where the noise is the loudest. On the sofa he can see a tipsy Asahi trying to convince Noya not to chug a whole bottle of alcohol. From somewhere out of sight Natira shouts for him to do it, words slurring more than usual. And then out of the living room and into the front room, only catching a glimpse of a sober Ennoshita trying to detach a drunk Tanaka from his waist before heading up the stairs. Daichi doesn’t even think to ask where they’re going before they’re down the hall and in a bedroom. 

It’s a familiar bedroom. One he was acquainted with first year and able to visit many times since then. A pang of nostalgia hits his chest, warm and cold all at the same time and almost consuming. But then Suga lets go of his hand and Daichi is back in the moment, turning his gaze towards his boyfriend. 

Suga pulls out his phone and waves it around with a grin -- the same grin he wore when he suggested they sneak out just two months ago and drive down to the nearest beach at one in the morning -- before unlocking it and typing something in. He sets it on his bed side table just as music starts to flow out. It’s soft and warm and flows (kind of like Suga’s laugh, Daichi’s brain supplies), washing over the two of them like a gentle wave. 

Suga walks over, shoulders lose, and still wearing that same grin. He holds up a hand, just in reach for Daichi to take. “Wanna dance?” 

He’s in no state to dance. He’s not in much of a state for anything, really. But he still nods, because how can he refuse? 

It’s not so much dancing, Daichi realizes once the first song bleeds into the second. They’re pressed up against each other, one hand holding Suga’s and the other pressed into the small of his back, swaying side to side as they turn in small circles. It almost makes Daichi dizzy, but he Suga stands there to ground him as they move. Soft and quiet. It feels like they’re not dancing on the carpet of Suga’s room anymore, but instead dancing on the words and musical notes of the song, together in their own little bubble. 

Daichi leans down and hides his face into the crook of Suga’s neck, causing a small laugh to bubble up from the other. He tries not to think of graduating, of college, of leaving Karasuno behind, of standing here for the first time as a small first year, just getting to know Suga. Instead, he envelops himself in this moment. 

Just him. And Suga. And music. 


	17. Naked - Ennotana

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Is there a reason you're naked in my bed?"

When Ennoshita opens the door to his room, he’s met with the sound of fingers tapping against keys and ice cold dread settles calmly in his chest. He slowly opens the door the rest of the way and peeks inside, letting one foot cross into the threshold. It’s as bad as he imagined. 

Tanaka is spread across his bed, knees on the pillow, and propped up on his elbows. Ennoshita can’t see the computer screen very well, but from the small sliver of text he can tell that it’s both his computer and his unfinished script. How Tanaka got into his password protected laptop is a mystery -- up until Ennoshita remembers he had left it wide open on the home screen when he had gotten up to slip into the shower. 

Well fuck. That was a stupid move, and a part of him feels he deserves this. 

“Ryuu.” Ennoshita says carefully, taking a few steps into the room. Water drips down his neck from his hair, and even though it isn’t it feels like a drop of sweat from nerves. “What are you doing?” 

“Hmm,” Tanaka hums, casually rocking his feet back and forth in the air as if he hadn’t a care in the world. “Fixin’ things.” 

“Fixing things.” Ennoshita slowly repeats. He continues his walk over, taking the towel that loosely hung off his shoulders to instead place on his wet hair. “Fixing things… in my script?” 

“Yep.” 

So damn casual. 

“... Since when did I say you could add stuff to my script?” He’s really trying to remember. But, of course, nothing comes up. Because he never did say anything like that. 

Tanaka fucking finally turns his head and Ennoshita reaches the foot of the bed. He looks up, mouth parted in a way that shouldn’t look so appealing, expression feigning both shock and insult. “You didn’t have to say anything. I just went on your computer to see if you had any games when -- oh! Your script just pops up.” In that moment they both know he went looking for it. “And so I thought, I’d love to see what my lovely Chika is writing about. And next thing I know this script is begging me to add to it.” 

“Begging you, huh?” Ennoshita raises an eyebrow, brushing off the use to his nickname. It’s one Tanaka had given him just before they started dating, and one he uses both to be romantic and to get out of trouble. Carefully he sits himself down on the edge of the bed, just inches from Tanaka. “You trying to say something about my writing?” he teases.

“Your writing is wonderful,” Tanaka reassures. He reaches over to pat Ennoshita’s thigh. “It just needs some fixing. All first drafts do.” 

Damn him for throwing Ennoshita’s words back in his face. It was one of the things he said when Tanaka first watched him revise a scene. It makes the corners of his lips turn up without him meaning for them to. “Uh-huh. And you thought… you were up to the job?” 

“Yep!” Tanaka enthusiastically nods, grinning from ear to ear. “Here, take a look.” He slides the laptop over across the bedspread. Ennoshita leans down to read. 

He’s only a page and a half through before he stops, choking on a bit of spit at what he reads. He narrows his eyes to read again, hopefully the words misread because of distance. Nope. Still the same. Tanaka’s grin widens. 

“ ‘ _ Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?’  _ ” Ennoshita quotes, trying not to choke again as he actually says the words out loud. He looks down, eyes still narrow, but this time in a way that seems more scolding. Tanaka’s still grinning. “So what needed to be fixed is how-”

“-gay it is.” Tanaka finishes for him. 

“Holy fuck,” Ennoshita breaths out, closing his eyes. 

It isn’t a romance. Hell, it doesn’t even have romance in it. It’s supposed to be an action comedy and Ennoshita had specifically tried to avoid writing romance. He’d kept the ratio of female to male characters the same, but had steered away from any misinterpretations of friendship that may lead to heterosexual romance, as it often does. 

“So… I try to make sure the lead girl and the lead boy don’t fall in love… And that somehow leads to this?” Ennoshita opens his eyes, giving another pointed look. 

“Mmhmm.” Tanaka nods again. “Your main guy might not have the hots for her, but he’s totally got it for the best friend.” 

“Oh my god.” 

“Sorry, Chika, but you write a  _ lot  _ of gay subtext.” 

“I can’t fucking believe.” 

“So I just had to give the characters what they wanted.” 

Ennoshita would be in the middle of forming a headache right about now if this was anyone else. “Okay, you know what? I can admit it, they’re kinda gay. Alright? But -- but you thought the best way to address this was to have the best friend naked in his bed?” 

Tanaka just keeps nodding, like Ennoshita is actually fucking understanding this and on the same page. “Exactly! I mean, it’s what I woulda done if gotten the chance…” His grin turns sly.

Ennoshita hates himself for the way his face lights up bright red. He pulls the towel off his head and promptly attempts to smother Tanaka with it. 

Later that night he deletes most of what Tanaka wrote. Honestly, he can’t include a  _ nude  _ scene in a movie of his. What the fuck, Tanaka? But he doesn’t erase one line at the end, where the hero ends up kissing his best friend during the reunion. He has to admit, that was written pretty well. 


	18. Love - Iwaoi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Kiss me."

“We need it!”

“No, we don’t!”

“Yes! We do!” 

“No! We don’t! Now shut up!” Hajime threw the volleyball on the word shut and it made contact with Tooru’s chest on the word up. 

They’d been at it for a while. By now they’re red faced and panting, small hands clenched at sides and eyes narrowed into glares. Even if they hadn’t been practicing volleyball before this particular fight had erupted, they’d still probably be worse for wear from how loud they’d been yelling. 

Tooru debated whether or not he should pout or cry. Both? Neither? At the volleyball hitting his chest or Hajime yelling at him? He wasn’t sure, but it felt appropriate. Though, it didn’t feel like it would get him what he wanted, which was usually why he often resorted to those tactics, so he did neither. Instead he stood his ground, hoping that would work on Hajime better than what would work on his mother or his sister. 

Hajime, for his part, hadn’t budged. He’d kept his ground both verbally and physically, not having moved an inch in his argument or when Tooru had moved in close in a weak attempt to intimidate him. At least, that’s what he assumed he was doing. Maybe he was just trying to get what he wanted anyway. 

“You’re so mean, Iwa-chan.” Normally by now Tooru would be whining, but his voice didn’t hold the same tone as when he whines. Hajime was used to that but he wasn’t used to this… disappointment? Real, legitimate disappointment. Weird. 

“No, you’re just stupid.” Hajime shook his head. Even if Tooru was disappointed, it didn’t mean Hajime had to lie. He was being pretty stupid. “It’s a stupid idea and I’m not gonna do it.” 

“Pleeeease? I don’t have anyone else I can ask…” 

“S’not my problem.” 

“Mean!” 

Hajime rolled his eyes. Stubborn idiot. “If you wanna practice kissing do it with your volleyball.” He used the end of his ever trusty net to point at the ball now lying unused at Tooru’s feet. 

“That’s not the same!” Tooru stomped his foot. A small cloud of dust rose around his sneaker. “That’s not real practice! We gotta make sure we’re good at it for when we’re older. Don’tcha watch TV?” 

“No.” Hajime shrugged. 

For a brief moment disbelief shown in Tooru’s wide, brown eyes, his mouth dropping open. Then understanding and then acceptance. He closed his mouth with a glup. Of course someone who  _ enjoys  _ catching bugs wouldn’t watch TV. “Well, I do! And I’ve seen my sister and I know how it all works. If you want someone to love you, you gotta be good at kissing, but we’re not cause we’ve never done it.” 

Nose wrinkling in confusion, Hajime slowly shook his head. “That… doesn’t sound right.” You gotta be able to kiss for someone to love you? That made absolutely no sense. 

“That’s cause you don’t watch TV. And no one’s ever gonna love you-” Tooru squeaked when Hajime raised his net to swing at him “-unless you do this with me.” 

A good attempt at covering up his insult, but not good enough to stop Hajime from smacking his arm with the net. Lighter than he intended. Ignoring the over dramatic “ow!” shouted by Tooru, Hajime shook his head, “people do love me, even if I don’t kiss ‘em. I don’t have to kiss anyone for them to love me.”

“Well, not right  _ now _ .” Tooru rolled his eyes like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “But someday. When we’re both older. That’s how you get other people to love you, so we gotta practice so we don’t mess it up.” Suddenly he straightened out his shoulders and smoothed out his expression. Hajime recognized the look, it was the same look Tooru’s mother got when she was about to give a ‘life lesson’ to the boys. It was horribly executed. “Iwa-chan. Kiss me.” 

It was tempting to say no. Just say no and storm off, but he knew where that would lead. He knew that Tooru would drag this argument on forever. It could last for several days if Tooru really wanted it to, and a small voice in the back of Hajime’s mind told him that Tooru wouldn’t give up on this easily. Kind of like the time he had convinced Hajime into playing volleyball with him; just asking and asking and  _ asking  _ and complaining until Hajime had to agree just to get him to shut up for a second. This was going to be just like that, something deep in Hajime told him. 

His mother rarely said curse words, but she had enough that Hajime could remember a few. He was tempted to mutter one. 

“... Fine.” Hajime muttered, as if hoping Tooru wouldn’t be able to hear him. 

Almost immediately, like a light being switched on, Tooru’s face brightened. He grinned, stretching across his whole face, as his eyes lit up. Hajime wanted to knock the expression off his face. Not really. He bounced up on his feet, unable to contain his excitement. “ _ Really _ , Iwa-chan!” 

Hajime held up one finger. He’d seen adults do it before. “On  _ one  _ condition.” Tooru groaned, shoulders slumping and knees bending so his limp arms almost touched the ground. “Only one kiss. And then we’re done and we never do it again.” 

Something in Hajime’s expression must’ve shown how serious he was (seriously close to murder) because slowly Tooru nodded. He’d have to figure out what it was to replicate later. 

“Alright, alright. One kiss.” Tooru shifted, not totally happy with the arrangement but content he got something. 

The two of them slowly crept towards each other. Even if they both did agree, it felt...wrong to rush things. Like they’d scare the other off if they did. Or, maybe, they were stalling. Just a little bit afraid to be copying what they’d only seen grown ups do. It took far too long for them to be standing close enough to kiss. Probably close enough. They weren’t  _ exactly  _ sure on the mechanics, a lot of guesswork behind it all. 

“One,” Hajime reminded him as he lowered his net.  

“One,” Tooru agreed, eyes shining with determination. 

Together they began to lean forward, just like they’d seen in movies. Another thing Hajime had seen; adults kiss with their eyes close. He wasn’t sure why, but it seemed like a good idea. So, he scrunched his eyes closed, puckered his lips, and, desperate to get it over with as soon as possible, dove in. 

Their lips touched for maybe a  _ fraction  _ of a second. 

They backpedaled away quickly, almost falling in the process. 

“Eww, Iwa-chan, your lips taste like bugs!” 

“No they don’t, Dummykawa! Your lips taste like dirt!” 

“Rude!” 

“Idiot! Why’d you even want to do that?!” 

“Mean! Iwa-chan is mean and a horrible kisser!” 

“Why you-!” 


	19. Play - Kuroken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Teach me how to play?"

Kuroo is young and understands the idea of games. He’s been playing them since he was little, he loves them. Spending time with other people, preferably outside games where he can run around and get a little dirty. It’s great!

What he  _ doesn’t _ understand is how playing on a small, handheld device, by yourself, on your bed, counts as playing a game. A game requires at least some kind of interaction in Kuroo’s mind, but not in Kenma’s. Kenma, who is satisfied with this small controller as company and his dozens of different games as ways to pass the time. He tells Kuroo over and over that they are games, and that this counts as playing a game, and while Kuroo understands that logically by definition that’s what it is, he doesn’t quite  _ believe  _ it. 

But it’s what Kenma does. And Kuroo, for his part, has adapted. He still doesn’t completely get it because he’s young and social anxiety is a brand new concept for him, but he doesn’t complain. Too much. 

Sure, he does complain that Kenma spends too much time in his house. Or that he doesn’t have anyone to play volleyball with (even though Kenma has pointed out time and time again that the kids just up the block would be thrilled to play with him, Kuroo has to keep telling him that it’s not the  _ same _ ). Or that he has to listen to Kenma complain about how tired he is or the crick in his neck even though it’s the games fault. 

But it’s not how he could complain if he wanted to. If he didn’t get it at least a little bit. 

Sometimes Kuroo manages to drag Kenma out of the house. They’ll spend the day outside, Kenma’s controller hidden away, mostly untouched, in his pocket. They’ll pass the ball to each other, try to learn new volleyball moves, and Kuroo will enjoy the tickle of grass on his feet and the sun warming his skin. 

Other days Kuroo bursts into Kenma’s room, volleyball in hand, and stops. He stops because he doesn’t fully get it yet (he will in a few years) but he can still tell. Tell something is off. Something’s wrong. Something that he can’t fix, at least not on his own. It’s in Kenma’s eyes. Wide, golden eyes that dart up as soon as he walks in, like a startled cat. The tight press of his lips. The way his controller shakes in his grip. 

So Kuroo abandons his soft grass and warm sunshine. He closes the door, grabs a blanket from Kenma’s closet, and climbs into the bed with him. Sometimes they lie there for hours, not speaking, only interrupted by the music from Kenma’s game or his mother coming up to check on them. Kuroo watches the little characters on the screen, watches Kenma’s face as he plays, and tries to understand. 

Today has been one of those days. Kuroo feels cold even though he’s wrapped up tight in blankets, body pressed against Kenma’s, and it’s the middle of summer. He could start shivering at any moment. Maybe he could ask if they could turn the air conditioning down. 

But… that doesn’t seem right. It doesn’t seem enough. Not enough to break this silence. A comforting, familiar silences, that cradles the both of them. No… he needs something more. He can’t figure out what. Not until he glances down, watches Kenma’s thumbs glide against the controller, and then the idea hits him. 

“Teach me?” The words fall from his lips, slightly scratchy as his voice has been unused most of the day. 

“What?” Kenma pauses in his movements, glancing up. His eyes look like a cat’s again, poised and ready to flee at a moment's notice. His voice is scratchy too, but it sounds more natural on him. 

“Teach me to play?” Kuroo clarifies, slowly dropping his gaze down to the game to show what he means for sure. He doesn’t get it, but maybe he can. 

Kenma’s eyes widen in both understanding and surprise. He shifts under the blankets until they’re pressed chest to chest. It warms them in ways neither of them get until years later. And softly, under a comfortable blanket and the safety of darkness, Kenma explains in a whisper his game. 


	20. Die - Kagehina

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "If you die, I'm gonna kill you."

A prayer circle made up of Noya, Tanaka, Yachi, Yamaguchi, and a very reluctant Tsukishima and Ennoshita surrounded the pair. They all held hands, heads hung low. Mournfully, Tanaka was the first to raise his head. He’d been compared to a monk before, and in the moment could be compared again. In his softest, sincerest voice he whispered, “good fucking luck.” 

Hinata gulped. 

And then the circle was open and they were pushed into line and in a blink of an eye were up next to get into a roller coaster car. 

Only a select few had been on this rollercoaster. Suga, Daichi (by force from Suga), Noya, Tanaka, Kiyoko. They’d heard the stories. They’d seen the roller coaster before they’d even seen the entrance to the park. And now it was time. Time for Kageyama and Hinata to take their turn. 

All because of a stupid bet a month ago that now had to be fulfilled. 

On the way here Kageyama had promised to kill Tsukishima. He’d gotten a dull response in turn and his anger lit up further. 

Hinata didn’t feel any anger, especially not now, staring up at his doom. He’d only felt pure fear. Worse than he’d felt during that horror movie marathon with Kageyama and Yachi. Worse than stumbling upon Noya and Asahi at that summer training camp. Worse than when his mom comes home to find he’s done none of his chores. 

He grabbed onto Kageyama’s arm as they walk up even though he had promised himself not to, dull fingernails digging into tan skin. He could picture his grave, hoping they put up a nice tombstone. 

“Hey!” Kageyama hissed, trying to pull his arm away. Even though there’s no way Hinata’s nails would break skin, it still fucking stung. “Dumbass! Let go! You said you wouldn’t do this!” He kept trying to get his arm free, but there are only so many times you can swing your arm back and forth before it becomes very unsubtle. 

“I’m going to die.” Hinata whispered back, like he hadn’t even heard a word Kageyama said. His voice wobbled, but it was said like a fact. Like saying a volleyball was round or the sky was blue. He was going to die. 

“You’re not going to-”

“I’m going to die.” Hinata repeated, still staring up at the ride with saucers for eyes. 

“Listen.” Kageyama gave his arm a jerk, causing Hinata to stumble and finally look up. “If you die, I’m gonna kill you.” 

Hinata’s spell of fear finally seemed to break. He blinked and wrinkled his nose in confusion, head titled slightly, but his grip didn’t flatter. “How are you gonna kill me if I’m already dead?” 

Maybe, Kageyama thought, this could get him his arm back. He wasn’t 100% sure they were actually going to live, and just in case he wanted to die with is body intact. “Well, I’m gonna bring you back to life first. Idiot.” The sneer came to Kageyama’s face as easy as breathing, a special sneer he only wore to work Hinata up. 

“Hey!” Hinata squaked, grip loosening slightly as he squared his shoulders.  _ Success!  _ “S’not my fault you said something stupid first! Who even says something like that?” 

“Someone who thinks they’re talking to someone else who has a bit of common sense.” Kageyama continues, sneakily trying to pull his arm away. 

“You’re so mean! We’re about to die and you still have to be mean!” Brown eyes narrowed and an angry pout settled on his lips. 

For a brief moment Kageyama was pulled from his thoughts of death roller coasters and gaining back control of his arm. It was like he thoughts turned to static, only able to think of wide brown eyes and pink pouting lips. Later he would remember this moment, only lasting a few seconds at most as he stared at Hinata like an idiot, and think to himself,  _ what the fuck? _

Luckily, he wasn’t left staring long. Unluckily, this was because both of them were quickly ushered into their own car of the rollercoaster and buckled in. Kageyama blinked, taking in the new situation, just in time to feel Hinata’s hand let go and his grip replaced by his whole arm. His chest pressed into Kageyama’s side, like he was trying to mold into him. 

Any other time Kageyama would’ve started yelling, but the jolt of movement and realization of where they were caused his heart to spike. It could’ve jumped out of his throat if he opened his mouth. Instead he leaned into Hinata’s hold, using his free arm to reach over and grab one of Hinata’s. 

Moments later the rollercoaster jolted to life and their grips tightened. 

“I’m gonna die.” Kageyama muttered. 

Just for a second, glee replaced fear. Glee that Hinata was now able to throw Kageyama’s words back in his face. The phrase said just moments earlier --  _ if you die I’m gonna kill you  _ \-- rested on the tip of his tongue. 

And then the roller coaster took off. 


	21. Ice Cream - Kuroken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Who crawls through someone's window at 4am to go for ice cream?!"

“They’re bonding.” 

“It’s stupid.” 

“Stop.” 

The room was dark, eyes straining against a too bright screen of pixels. Outside was dark too, surrounding them and the apartment like a blanket, settling down on a bed of quiet, only interrupted by the voices of pixelated characters and the hum of a laptop. The blinds had been shut, shielding them away from whatever city light may try to sneak in. 

Kuroo sighed and shifted further into his nest of pillows, grabbing at the half abandoned bowl of popcorn on the floor. They had just settled in for the night. Kuroo sprawled out across their moderately comfortable couch, surrounded by nothing but pillows, Kenma curled half on him half next to him, pushed into the back of the couch. Kenma’s laptop sat on Kuroo’s stomach, heat radiating through the thin t-shirt he wore, facing the two of them. 

“I don’t...get it.” Kuroo continued before shoving his handful of popcorn into his mouth.

Kenma’s nose wrinkled, most likely in disgust at his eating habits and at the fact that he wouldn’t shut up. “They’re friends. This is what friends do.” 

Even though in the middle of a conversation, Kuroo took the time to swallow his mouthful of food. Luckily, the item in question was still going on. “No it isn’t. Who crawls through someone’s window at four am to go for ice cream? Not me.” 

“Cause I would’ve kicked you out…” Kenma muttered, snuggling deeper into Kuroo’s chest. 

“Yeah,” Kuroo sighed, “you probably would have.  _ But  _ that doesn’t fully answer my question. Plus, it only adds more questions. Who wrote this game, and what the fuck do they think teenagers are getting up to?” 

This fucking cutscene, man. Kuroo had seen some games with bad writing. Especially bad writing of kids and teenagers. But there was bad writing and then there was  _ this.  _ And, hell, it was only the beginning of the game. The first cutscene. They had a hell of a ride coming. 

“Will you stop bitching?” Kenma tilted his head up to shoot a glare up to Kuroo. They were both used to Kuroo’s commentary during these types of games, but it hadn’t even been five minutes. 

“If these people get decent writers on staff.” Kuroo couldn’t help but grin as Kenma’s frown deepened. “C’mon, you know you wouldn’t enjoy this stuff as much if I didn’t bitch.” 

Kenma muttered something that sounded like it maybe could’ve been agreement. Kuroo decided to take it that way. Even if it wasn’t, he himself knew it was true and that’s all that really mattered with this argument. 

“Just let me play my game,” Kenma muttered. But as he did so, he turned his face to press into Kuroo’s chest. Maybe because he too was tired of the bullshit logic of this cutscene. Or maybe he was tired of Kuroo’s bitching. Both? It’d take some time to fully figure it out. 

“All right. All right. Play your game. Hope the writing gets better…” Kuroo mumbled the last part, reaching down for another handful of popcorn. 

They managed to get five minutes of silence. 

“Okay, but what the fuck? Teenagers don’t  _ do  _ that -- don’t give me that look, Kenma -- who the hell wrote this?” 


	22. Name - Ennotana

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I bet I can make you scream my name."

“Come ooooon, please, Chika?” 

Somewhere in the last three minutes Tanaka’s voice had adopted a high pitched whining quality he saved only to use on his sister. He wasn’t sure when the pitch change actually occurred, but listening to the words come out of his mouth he was sure it had happened. And, yeah, okay, it was pretty fitting for what he was doing. Which was whining. 

Ennoshita’s back is turned towards him, and  _ no,  _ he does not let his gaze wander down his back to the hem of his shorts thank you very much, but Tanaka can still see the blush on his face. He can almost see the soft glow of his face and he can totally see the way a bit of pink tints his ears. It’s the same reaction he’s had for the past week, since Tanaka had accidentally let the nickname drop and has slowly been incorporating it into their conversations ever since. 

“No, Tanaka.” While Tanaka’s voice had gotten higher, in return Ennoshita’s had gotten lower. Slowly but surely he was slipping into his captain voice (which may or may not be a goal in the back of Tanaka’s head, we just don’t know). “For the last time-”

“But Chikaaaaaaaa,” he draws out the last letter as he stands up and stumbles over, draping an arm across Ennoshita’s bare shoulders and letting his chin rest on his right shoulder. He pretends not to notice the way Ennoshita tenses up. “You gotta do this. Please? For me?” 

From this angle he can perfectly see the blush that’s ignited his captain’s face. It’s a rosy pink that  _ does  _ glow --  _ ha!  _ Tanaka was right! -- and takes up most of his cheeks, patches making their way down his neck. Tanaka tries not to stare. He doesn’t try hard. 

A quick glance around the room -- “ _ yes _ ,” Tanaka wants to say, “the club room is  _ still _ empty, I wouldn’t be doing this otherwise” -- and Ennoshita only slightly relaxes. He doesn’t push Tanaka off, so that’s a good sign. A sigh, and Ennoshita finally looks over to meet Tanaka’s gaze. While his blush and hands twisting his shirt scream ‘I’m embarrassed’ his eyes just show exasperation. Tanaka hopes he’s not imagining the fondness in their too. “Just- just ask Noya or something. You guys place bets all the time.” 

“Noya won’t do that anymore.” Tanaka juts out his lip in a pout. He hopes he not imagining how Ennoshita’s blush darkens when he glances down at his lips. “Said something about them gettin’ to be too much. Also, Asahi threatened to stop Skyping him unless he stopped.” 

“Good old Asahi.” Ennoshita sighs fondly. Something totally doesn’t spike in Tanaka’s chest at this. “But, that only begs the question. Why would I take a bet with you if even Noya won’t do it anymore?” 

“Cause I’m your co-captain and you care about me and I’m awfully bored,” Tanaka starts listing off the reason, batting his eyelashes, “and I won’t make it too hard and I have pictures of you and Kinoshita drunk makin’ out during spin the bottle.” 

Ennoshita quickly tenses up again and gasps. He turns, letting Tanaka’s arm fall off his shoulders, to face him with a death glare that could rival Suga’s. It’s a small price to pay. “What. The.  _ Fuck _ . Tanaka.” He hisses out each word in a whisper, as if someone else is listening. 

“Yep!” Tanaka smiles and pulls out his phone. “Wanna see-?” 

“No!” Ennoshita reaches up to bat his hand away. “You took pictures? Holy shit, you’re  _ blackmailing  _ me-?!” 

“No, no, no.” Tanaka shakes his head, quickly cutting him off. He ducks his head, if only for an excuse to let his eyes briefly wander down Ennoshita’s chest. It’s wonderfully pink now. “I’m not blackmailing your. Technically. I’m just saying if you do one bet with me I’ll delete ‘em. If not, I’ll keep ‘em. You know, in case I ever do need blackmail.” 

“This is blackmail, you asshole.” Ennoshita’s words could be harsher, because deep down they both know Tanaka would never show anyone. Tanaka isn’t really that big of an asshole. And Tanaka has very good self-preservation skills and would prefer not to die by Ennoshita or Kinoshita's hands. 

His hand twitches, like he’s going to reach for Tanaka’s phone to get rid of the pictures himself. Tanaka slips it back into his pocket. 

“So, c’mon,  _ Chika.”  _ He deepens his voice around the word, letting it drip of his tongue like honey. Ennoshita’s eyes widen and glaze over a bit. Tanaka wants them to stay like that forever. “Just one bet?” 

“... Fine.” Ennoshita sighs out, shoulders slumping in defeat. He’d put up one hell of a fight for almost the entire day. His next words come out like they’re almost painful. “What is it?” 

Tanaka grins. 

He may not know much about seducing girls, even though he’s definitely attracted to them. And he may not know much about seducing boys, even though he’s definitely attracted to them. But one thing he does know, is how to flirt with Ennoshita after months of trying and actually succeeding. 

“I bet I can make you  _ scream  _ my name.” Tanaka says in a low voice. 

And holy fuck does it work. 

Ennoshita ignits. He’s only turned this bright red after a game gone too long. And it covers his entire face, spreading down his neck to his chest and shoulders. It’s surprising that steam doesn’t come out of his ears. 

It  _ shouldn’t  _ work. Hell, they both know it shouldn’t. It’s a horrible line, horrible way of flirting, and maybe executed sort of decently. Maybe. But it does. Tanaka wonders, as he often has recently, why it does seem to work. All his bad pick up lines do, all his flirting does. He wonders if Ennoshita just isn’t used to being flirted with. At least, not being flirted with by a guy. His face doesn’t exactly scream “ _ come try to seduce me _ ”.

Unless you’re Tanaka Ryuunosuke. 

He blinks a few times, as if trying not to think about the implications that flashed before his eyes at that. His blush doesn’t fade, though, and Tanaka wants to thank several gods out there because it makes this whole thing worth it. It even makes Ennoshita reaching out to punch his shoulder (not too hard to hurt for long, not too soft to think he’s forgiven) worth it. 

“You- you-” he’s choking on his words and it’s  _ adorable.  _ “You already  _ do,  _ asshole. By being so- so- so fucking-” 

“So fucking handsome?” Tanaka supplies. 

“So fucking  _ annoying. _ ” 

Ennoshita pulls on his shirt (Tanaka takes a moment to mourn his own loss) and hurries past him, mumbling about idiots and practice and being late and Tanaka being so fucking stupid. It’s all totally worth it. Cause he knows they’re still going to work together during practice. They’re still going to walk home together. They’ll still meet each other for lunch tomorrow. 

Which is sad in it’s own way. Nothing’s really changed. But at least nothing’s gone bad. 

Tanaka quickly changes, tossing his phone in his locker. It’s a shame, that he lied about having pictures. He’d love a physical memory. Cause he can still remember Ennoshita drunkenly pouncing on Kinoshita and it was fucking  _ hot.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this just in: tanaka is super fucking gay


	23. Trapped - Bokuaka

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Looks like we'll be trapped for a while..."

It’s dark, and cramped, and stuffy. There’s no elbow room, any sort of movement to help their position just puts them in a worse one. Elbows jut into stomachs, knees knock against each other, and more than a few times a head has butted up into the opposing chin. The walls are much too close and their quick breathing isn’t helping the situation. 

How they got here is beyond stupid. But, most anything to do with one of Bokuto’s ideas outside of volleyball practice does involve a certain level of stupid. Not that it’s always a bad thing. It certainly has led to some creative ideas. Just not this time. 

Stuck in a closet at the very end of the school day. Just because Bokuto wanted to skip his last class to practice with Akaashi, who had the period free. Akaashi knew he wouldn’t be able to deal with Bokuto in his dejected mode the rest of the day, so he reluctantly agreed.  They’d lasted about five minutes until they headed outside to the courtyard, where on their way the ran into one of Bokuto’s teachers. He then preceded to panic about getting caught (“I can’t afford another detention, Akaashi!!” “And you only now think about that?”), grab Akaashi by the shoulders, and shove him into the nearest room. Which happened to be the smallest closet in the school. Possibly in all of Japan. 

“Well,” Bokuto chuckles around the word, almost nervously. The closest to nervous that Akaashi has heard from his thus far. His voice is a whisper, just in case. “Looks like we’ll be trapped for a while…” He shifts again, trying to remove Akaashi’s elbow from his stomach, but only succeeds in falling back against the door, feet kicking Akaashi’s ankles so he almost falls with him. 

“Bokuto-san, your teacher is probably already gone…” 

“No, I think we’re kind of stuck.” 

“I can just open the door if you move your-” 

“Suuuuper stuck.” 

“Bokuto-san-”

“Guess we’ll have to wait until school’s over.” 

“Bo-”

“And occupy ourselves in the meantime.” 

“B-”

“I mean, I have some ideas on how we could-” 

“Bokuto-san.” Akaashi cuts off Bokuto’s seemingly endless train of thought. Even though there was a clear goal at the end of it, Akaashi knew well enough from experience that it could very easily miss it’s stop and continue on into endless blather for an unbearable amount of time. His expression is stern, and if it were anyone else he was sure it would be missed in the darkness of the room, but by the feeling of Bokuto shrinking back he doesn’t need to  _ see _ his expression for it to  _ work _ . 

Akaashi takes a deep breath, already stale air filling his lungs, to settle himself. His voice is slightly stern, as much as it can be while still whispering. “If you wanted to skip class to kiss you could’ve just said. There’s no need to stuff ourselves in a supply closet. 

He can almost feel rays of warmth from Bokuto’s smile. “Wait - really?! So, you wanna?!” 

Even though there’s a very small chance Bokuto would actually see it, Akaashi still fights off a smile. For how much he may complain and agree with other's annoyance at Bokuto’s antics, a part of him still finds Bokuto charming. A part of him that is much too big for his liking and will most likely end up the death of him one day. Literally or metaphorically. 

“Yes, Bokuto-san.” 

At this Bokuto almost vibrates in excitement. It’s enough to almost make Akaashi laugh - almost. He can feel Bokuto lean in, no doubt to start what he had hoped to accomplish from the second he closed the closet door, but Akaashi leans back. A disappointed whine falls from Bokuto’s lips, he can clearly picture the pout on his face. 

Charming. 

“ _ Later, _ Bokuto-san. Preferably not in a stuffy supply closet.” Akaashi shifts once again, as if to remind them of their situation. No matter how cliche this was, it was in no way romantic like movies or books suggest. “Maybe after practice.  _ If  _ you hit some good spikes.” 

Again Bokuto vibrates with excitement, the energy trapped within him desperate to get out one way or another. “I’ll make sure to hit them all!” Bokuto practically shouts. While his voice may seem loud out in the open, it echos in this small space. 

Akaashi is about to hush him, because even if the teacher is gone he doesn’t need a student stumbling across them because Bokuto can’t keep his voice down. It’s pointless, though, because half a second later light floods the room and Bokuto stumbles back, bringing Akaashi down with him. 

A stern, tight face stares down at them, obvious anger in the teacher’s eyes. Akaashi sighs and resigns himself to another consequence of Bokuto’s antics. 

And, yet, he’s still quite charming. 

**Author's Note:**

> Submit prompts at:
> 
> its-headcanon-time.tumblr.com


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